


Sick

by lmeden



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/lmeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dungeons are dry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick

The dungeons were dark, but not damp. In fact, they were the driest place that Harry had ever had the dubious pleasure of visiting. The dorms in the tower were always damp from everyone else taking showers and leaving the doors open, and smoky from spell experiments and mishaps in the common room.

The rest of the rooms in the castle smelled old – a soft smell that lurked at the edge of sensation. But – and Harry had noticed this only recently – the dungeons were dry and arid and didn't smell at all. The ingredients from potions smelled – terribly, too – but not the walls themselves.

It was Snape, he mused, keeping a wary eye out for Slytherins. Snape had so many students in his dungeons for detentions, cleaning and such, that he had cleaned the very essence of the castle out of his rooms. Typical.

And Harry would be next in line for the erasing of history.

He twisted his lips, thinking about Gryffindor Tower. He would much rather be there. He would sit in the common room and be deliciously warm – for though dry, the dungeons were undoubtedly cold. He would curl up and play Snap with Ron, or try to avoid working on essays with Hermione.

Or best of all, he could spend some time with Ginny. He loved how her red hair nearly sparkled in the firelight and how it flew madly when she spoke. He loved to sit close to her, with her soft curves pressing against him, and feel her warmth. He loved to watch her, even when she was speaking with others.

But he couldn't. Because he had detention.

Harry stopped at Snape's. It was open a crack, but he didn't really want to go in just yet. Best to avoid it as long as possible, when you were dealing with this sort of situation.

He glanced through the crack and squinted in the low candlelight. He pulled his glasses off and attempted to wipe them clean, then gave up. He slipped them back on and squinted, trying to cipher out what he dimly saw.

Inside the room a hand reached forward and plucked a sparkling bottle from the table, disappearing from sight. Harry swallowed. It was a pale hand, with long fingers and a thin wrist.

Quite exquisite, and he would know, having stared at Ginny's wrists for long moments. He straightened his robes and patted back his hair, taking a few deep breaths to calm his sudden surge of arousal. He had to see who this poor girl was that Snape had brought in for detention.

He knocked, then opened the door.

Snape whirled from the desk he was standing in front of and glared, his face twisted. Harry froze. There was no girl there. Only Snape. He swallowed, stomach suddenly churning. Oh, god. He had _thought_ about Snape. _Snape._

"_Well_, Potter," the man hissed. "Get to _work_." He gestured toward a pile of cauldrons, dripping with the remnants of countless potions. As his hand flicked out Harry found his eyes following it again.

He was getting hard. He was watching Snape, and getting hard.

He pulled his robes close and skulked into the corner, trying to ignore the unavoidable. _Snape. Snape!_

Harry was terribly afraid that the reddest hair in the world wouldn't be able to cure him of this new, and deadly, affliction.


End file.
